Attack of the Mole Men from New York
by Lucinda M. H. Cheshir
Summary: Sam and Dean follow a possible lead originating from a tiny New York town, where they discover an entirely new adversary, and meet an entirely new ally. Please read & review! Thank you!


_**Disclaimer: It is one of my sincerest regrets that I do not own Supernatural or the Winchester boys. Sorry to all of those who thought I did.**  
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_New __Carille__, __New __York_

_Two __young __women__, __probably __in __their __early __twenties__, __are __jogging __along __a __paved, __twilit __path __through __a __darkening __forest__. __Upon __reaching __a __fork __in __the __road__, __one __path __paved__, __the __other __path __merely __a __dirt __trail__, __they __pause__._

Olivia: Hey, Rosie, let's go down this path.

_She __gestures __to __the __trail __that __disappears __into __the __trees __along __their __right_

Rosie: Okay.

_The __two __continue __jogging__, __until __they __reach __a __creek__._

Olivia: Rosie?

Rosie: Yeah?

Olivia: Maybe we should go back. This place is creepy.

Rosie: You're right. Let's go.

_They __turn __around __and __begin __jogging __back __the __way __they __had __come__. __Behind __them __is __the __silhouette __of __something __very __large __and __hairy__. __Olivia __stops __to __catch __her __breath__, __and __Rosie __stops __a __few __paces __ahead __of __her__._

Rosie: Everything okay?

_Olivia __nods__. _

Olivia: Go on back. I'll catch up in a minute.

Rosie: Okay.

_After __a __few __seconds__, __Olivia __stands __up __straight __and __begins __to __jog __again__. __She __stops __at __the __sound __of __low __growling __coming __from __behind __her__. __She __turns __around __to __face __the __thing__. __Upon __seeing __it__, __Olivia __screams __in __terror__, __and __the __growl __turns __into __an __enraged __bellowing__._

_Rosie__, __only __a __few __yards __ahead__, __immediately __turns __and __begins __sprinting __towards __Olivia__._

Rosie: Olivia? Olivia!

_Both __Olivia __and __the __mysterious __creature __that __attacked __her __have __vanished__._

_[__Fade__]_

_Sam __and __Dean __Winchester __are __standing __outside __a __rustic __gas __station __with __the __name__ "__Miller__'__s __Gas__: __The __finest __gasoline __in __New __York __state__." __Dean __is __busily __pumping __fuel __into __the __Impala__'__s __gas __tank__, __while __Sam __is __intensely __scrutinizing __a __local __newspaper __for __mysterious __deaths__._

Sam: Hey, Dean. Come look at this.

_Dean __finishes__, __and __slides __a __fake __credit __card __through __the __pump__'__s __reader __in __payment__. __Then __he __joins __Sam __by __the __passenger __side __door__._

Dean: What is it?

Sam: Well, Olivia Henderson, age 23, went missing in some woods last week while out jogging with her friend, Rosie Ellman, also 23. She claims that before Olivia vanished, she saw something big, black, and hairy stalking them through the woods.

Dean: You think it's bigfoot?

Sam: Quit joking around, Dean. I don't know what it could be. It seems to me that if it is something supernatural, it might be something we haven't encountered yet.

Dean: So, what? When we meet this son of a bitch, we take it out to tea or something?

Sam: Very funny, Dean. Whatever it is, it's in New Carille, which shouldn't be all that far away from where we are now.

Dean: Okay. Let's go find this big, bad beastie, shall we?

_Sam __rolls __his __eyes __and __they __both __get __into __the __Impala__._

_[__Fade__]_

_Dean __is __driving __the __Impala __down __the __highway__, __Sweet__'__s__ "__Fox __on __the __Run__" __playing__. __Sam__, __sitting __shotgun__, __is __asleep__. __Dean __glances __at __his __brother__, __grins __mischievously__, __and __gives __Sam __a __good __hard __jab __in __the __ribs__. __Sam __wakes __up __very __suddenly__, __banging __his __head __on __the __roof __of __the __Impala __in __the __process__. __Dean __laughs__,__but __Sam __scowls __and __rubs __his __forehead__._

Dean: About time, sleeping beauty. We're almost there!

Sam: You didn't have to poke me that hard.

Dean: Yes I did. It lightened my spirit, seeing you make a fool of yourself.

Sam: _(__sarcastically__) _Yeah, ha, ha. Very funny.

_The __Impala __pulls __into __a __bumpy __cobblestone __driveway __and __halts __in __front __of __a __rundown __old __inn__._

Dean: Well, Sammy, this is where that Rosie chick is staying. She's still waiting for her friend to turn up.

Sam: I wonder how old it is.

Dean: Probably around two centuries, I'd guess. It looks about two hundred years old, anyway.

_They __get __out __of __the __Impala __and __head __up __to __the __inn__, __a __very __old __sign __swinging __from __a __post __outside __the __door__._

Sam: This place is creepy. It looks abandoned.

Dean: Wuss.

_They __enter __the __inn__._

_Inside__, __an __elderly __woman __is __sitting __behind __the __check__-__in __counter__. __She __smiles __when __she __sees __the __Winchesters __enter__, __and __stands __up __to __greet __them __cordially__._

Antonette: Can I help you boys? I'm Antonette Valleriea, by the way. You call me Antonette.

Dean: Yeah, uh, we'd like to check in, please.

Antonette: Why certainly! What is your preference, a king, or two queens?

Sam: Two queens, please.

_Antonette __smiles __again__, __and __runs __her __finger __down __a __list __affixed __to __a __clipboard__._

Antonette: Room 25 is open, boys. I'll have Eloise help you with your luggage. Eloise! Where are you?

_Suddenly__, __a __girl __with __long__, __navy__-__blue __hair __appears __in __a __doorway. __She __has __somewhat __pale __skin with a smattering of barely visible freckles__, __as __though __she __avoids __going __outside __if __she __can__, __and __is __wearing __blue __jeans __and __a __blue __jean __jacket __with __a __royal __blue __t__-__shirt __underneath__._

Eloise: Yeah Antonette? What's up?

Antonette: You help these boys with their luggage, dear. And don't scare them away like you did the last few guests!

Eloise: Okay.

_Eloise __picks __up __one __of __Sam__'__s __bags__, __the __one __loaded __up __with __some __of __the __arsenal __from __the __Impala__'__s __trunk__, __with __some __difficulty__._

Eloise: What, do you carry around bricks or something?

Sam: I can get that...

Eloise: Naw, it's fine. I'm used to carrying heavy loads up and down staircases.

_Sam __and __Dean __exchange __glances__. _

Dean: So, what did Antonette mean when she asked you to not scare us away?

Eloise: Oh, she just wants me to shut up about them.

Sam: About who?

Eloise: You'll probably think I'm crazy.

Dean: Try us.

Eloise: Okay. Antonette wants me to shut up about the infestation of the little folk in the forest next door.

Dean: Ho-kay... uh... Sammy, you wanna take this one?

Eloise: They killed that Olivia person, you know. Something out there doesn't want to be bothered, and Olivia Henderson bothered it. Well, here's your room. Enjoy your stay.

_Eloise __leaves __the __Winchesters __standing __in __front __of __room__ #25, __dumbstruck__._

Dean: I dunno about you, but I kinda understand now why Antonette told her not to scare us away.

_[__Fade__]_

_The __Winchesters __enter __the __dining __room __of __the __inn__. __Eloise __is __leaning __against __the __hostess__' __podium__, __but __straightened __up __at __the __sight __of __them__._

Eloise: Oh, hi. Can I seat you?

Sam: Yes, please. Thank you. I'm Sam, by the way, and this is my brother Dean.

Eloise: Nice to meet you. I'm Eloise, as you ought to know. C'mon. Follow me.

Dean: Okay.

_Eloise __nods __and __sets __off __across __the __threadbare __carpet __of __the __dining __room__. __Dean __glances __back __at __Sam __and __grins __before __following __Eloise__. __Sam __tsks __and __shakes __his __head __and __continues __following __Dean__._

Eloise: Well, here you two are. Table for two, and dinner'll be right out.

_The __Winchesters __sit __down __at __the __table__._

Dean: What, we don't get to order? What is this-

Eloise: Aw, shut up.

Sam: I have a question for you, Eloise.

Eloise: Yeah? What is it?

Sam: It's about your...uh... _unusual_ hair.

Eloise: What about it? Spit it out already. I know my hair is weird. So what about it?

Sam: Well, I was wondering: Why blue? I mean, if you're going to dye your hair, why not, say, tomato red?

_Eloise__'__s __eyes __flash __with __sudden __anger__._

Eloise: Well, blue is the best way to keep them at bay. You really don't know much about them, do you?

Dean: Well, I'm sure we'd love to be better informed.

Eloise: Nice try. I have to help serve dinner, but I'm willing to chat later. So, see ya later.

Sam: Well, nice talking to you, Eloise.

_Eloise __nods __and __goes __to __a __swinging __door __at __the __other __end __of __the __room__, __presumably __to __the __kitchen__. __Sam __and __Dean __exchange __a __look__._

Dean: Well, there's a crazy person if ever I saw one.

Sam: I'm not so sure, Dean.

Dean: Whaddya mean?

Sam: I mean that she just doesn't seem insane to me.

_[__Fade__]_

_Sam __and __Dean __have __finished __their __dinner__, __and __Eloise __walks __over __to __talk__._

Eloise: You're done? Now, what intel can I give you guys on the little folk?

Sam: Whatever you know for sure.

Eloise: You got no idea, do you?

Sam: No idea of what?

Eloise: All I really know is how to keep 'em away. Wearing blue usually does the trick, but sometimes it takes something extra, like salt and iron filings.

Dean: Iron filings?

Eloise: Yeah. You've heard of salt keeping away all manner of demons and stuff, iron makes the stuff even more potent.

Sam: I'm curious, why are you telling us all of this?

Eloise: Why not? I can tell you're not them. Fairly easily, actually. Demons, too. What you should be wondering is if I'm a demon or not. I'll give you proof, look.

_Eloise __rolls __up __the __right __sleeve __of __her __jacket __to __reveal __a __circular __tattoo__, __identical __to __the __ones __that __Sam __and __Dean __have __to __ward __of __demonic __possession__. __Sam __glances __at __Dean__._

Sam: Okay, so, uh, somehow this proves that you're not a demon.

Eloise: Nope. I've done enough research to figure such things out. There haven't been many, but some demons found their way up here a couple years ago.

Dean: Demons? You know a lot about them?

Eloise: No. I wish I did. I wish I knew more about the little folk. All I do know is that there are things out there in the woods, things that are the stuff of nightmares.

Sam: Do you know what happened to that girl?

Eloise: No, but I can get Rosie to talk to you. Come on. She's sitting over there. What's your angle?

Dean: Uh... Well, we're FBI agents looking into that Olivia chick's disappearance.

Eloise: Thought so. The FBI seems to take an unusual interest in this part of New York. Come on.

_Eloise __leads __the __Winchesters __to __a __corner __table__, __where __Rosie __Ellman __sits __alone__._

Eloise: Hi, Rosie. These guys want to talk to you. They're FBI agents. They're looking for Olivia.

Rosie: But, I already answered a ton of questions. I don't understand.

Sam: Well, Rosie, we just need to know _exactly_ what happened that evening.

Dean: Everything. At this point, anything could make or break this investigation. Did Olivia seem to be acting out of the ordinary in any way?

Rosie: No, we were just jogging through the woods. We took a fork in the road, but it was creepy, so we turned back.

Sam: What happened then?

Rosie: She needed to catch her breath, so she stopped. She told me to keep going, so I did. A few seconds later, I heard her screaming. By the time I got there, she was gone.

Dean: And you didn't see anything strange or out of the ordinary?

Rosie: Well, there was one thing.

Sam: Yeah? And what was it? Could you see?

Rosie: It was right before I rounded a bend in the path- I thought I saw something really, really tall, and covered in this coarse, black hair. At least, I think it was black. I couldn't really tell because of the moonlight. I don't know what it was, but I guess that it could have been about the size of a small bear. Its head didn't look like a bear's head, though.

Dean: And you have no idea what it could have been?

Rosie: No, none.

Sam: Thank you very much for your time, Ms. Ellman.

_The __Winchesters __and __Eloise __retreat __to __a __quiet __corner __of __the __lobby __to __talk __over __what __they __had __just __heard__._

Eloise: So, that mean anything to you?

Dean: Well, I know that if it's been killing people, it ain't no friggin' fairy.

Eloise: You'd be surprised, Deannie. I've survived about eighteen different attacks from these monsters, and they aren't nice. They're ready and willing to kill if they don't get what they want.

_Dean __looks __a __bit __miffed __at __Eloise__'__s __nickname __for __him__, __but __decides __to __let__ it __slide __for __the __moment__._

Dean: So? What do they want?

Eloise: I dunno. All I know is that these things killed my entire family. They could want the job to be finished.

Sam: Is that why you need protection from them? They want to kill you?

Eloise: Yeah. I'm fairly certain that they do want to kill me, seeing as every year, every May fourteenth, a new wave of mysterious disappearances and deaths comes around town. The little folk are sending something- something I haven't been able to identify yet.

Sam: Why May fourteenth?

Eloise: I don't know! That's what's been driving me insane for my entire life! Antonette has told me that as a little girl, I had a favourite blanket- a blue blanket, and that every May fourteenth at sundown, she felt something evil walk the floorboards of this very inn. I don't know why, but blue is the colour that keeps me safe.

Dean: Oh. Well, we'll keep trying to I.D. this thing, you just keep safe until dawn.

_Sam __and __Dean __nod __at __Eloise__, __and __the __Winchesters __mount __the __stairs __to __the __second __floor__. __In __their __room__, __now__, __Sam __and __Dean __are __sitting__, __discussing __what __Eloise __has __told __them__._

Sam: Deannie?

Dean: Shut up, Sam.

Sam: Okay.

Dean: We don't know if this Eloise kid is telling the truth, or if she's just really out of it.

Sam: There's one way to find out.

Dean: Yeah? And how's that?

Sam: Dean, we have to go out there and track this thing.

Dean: Yeah, but first we have to I.D. the damn thing! How're we gonna do that, Sammy? Sift through fairy tales?

Sam: I don't know. Let's see if Dad's journal has anything helpful to offer.

_Dean __reaches __for __the __journal__, __only __to __be __interrupted __by __a __loud __scream __from __the __lobby__._

Dean: That sounds like Eloise!

_The __Winchesters __spring __up __and __race __out __of __the __room __and __down __the __staircase __to __the __lobby __below__._

Sam: Oh, no.

_Antonette __lies __dead __on __the __carpet__, __half __of __her __face __torn __off__, __her __hands __covered __with __blood__. __Eloise __stands __by __the __doors __to __the __dining __room__, __her __hands __covering __her __mouth __in __horror__._

_[__Fade__]_

Dean: So, Eloise, what exactly did you see?

Eloise: It was one of them. I'm sure of it. The nastiest one I've seen so far! It was, like seven feet tall, and had a face like a mole!

Sam: Try to calm down, Eloise. What did it do?

Eloise: Well, it tried to go for me first. It couldn't drag me away, because I'm wearing so much blue. But it gave me this.

_Eloise __gestures __at __a __fresh __set __of angry and bleeding __claw __marks__, __just __below __her __left __eye__. __Sam __and __Dean __wince __in __unison__._

Eloise: After that, I gave it a little taste of salt and iron, but that didn't seem to work very well. Then, I grabbed the closest thing to my hand, this fork here, and stabbed it. By the noise it was making, you'd think it was dying in agony. Then Antonette came in, and it went for her, and tore half her face off! And now, she's dead, that thing is gone, and the cops suspect me!

Dean: What'd you tell the cops?

Eloise: Why do you keep asking me so many weird questions? About beings that no one here but me believes exists?

Sam: Hey, calm down Eloise.

Eloise: No! Not until you quit giving me this crap about your being FBI agents! I know it's not true, so who are you, really?

Sam: Dean, we have to tell her.

Dean: No.

Eloise: Tell me, Sam. Ignore Deannie.

_Dean __scowls__, __and __Sam __grins__._

Sam: We're hunters.

Dean: Sammy, I told you to shut up.

Sam: You shut up, Dean. These things killed her family. Sound familiar?

_Dean __only __glares __in __response__, __but __makes __no __further __objection__._

Eloise: What do you mean by hunters?

Sam: We hunt things like this, things that are supernatural, things that don't have a so-called "rational" explanation.

Eloise: Like the little folk.

Sam: Exactly like them. But you need to answer the questions we ask you.

Eloise: I told the cops that a man in a ski mask broke in here and went berserk. Simple as that. I have a sneaking suspicion that they still suspect me, though.

Dean: Any idea what it really is?

Eloise: It could be any number of things, Deannie. But don't worry, I've done my homework. The only thing with coarse black fur and a face like a mole that I could find over seven feet tall was a buggane.

_Dean __scowls __again__._

Dean: Do me a favor, and don't call me Deannie. Any idea what can hurt it?

Eloise: I didn't get to that part before the cops came. The website is still open on my computer.

_The __Winchesters __follow __Eloise __up __two __flights __of __stairs __to __a __door __marked__ "__Private__" __Eloise __opens __the __door__, __and __carefully __steps __over __a __line __of __salt __and __small __bits __of __something __dark__, __like __pepper__._

Eloise: That's salt and iron filings. Be careful, will you?

_Sam __and __Dean __pause __for __a __moment __before __following __Eloise __into __the __room__, __Sam __shutting __the __door __behind __him__._

Sam: Why do you trust us so much?

_Eloise__, __already __seated __at __a __desk __with __a __laptop __resting __on __it__, __doesn__'__t __even __glance __back __at __him__._

Eloise: Because I can see things. I know things about people. I know that you two aren't killers or creepers or anything like that. I know people when I see them. Although, you, Sam, I trust completely, Deannie over there, well, I'm not so sure about.

Dean: Hey! What's that supposed to mean?

Eloise: Whatever you make of it, Deannie. Here, I got the website.

Dean: Yeah? And?

Eloise: It says that bugganes can't cross running water, although they will occasionally nest by a waterfall, and sunlight should destroy it completely. Salt and iron won't even work for warding it off, the most we can hope it does is make it sneeze, not kill it outright. You want to find its nest, drive it out, and hopefully stall it until dawn. It also says something about silver, but that's very vague.

Dean: What does it say?

Eloise: It says that "the blade of a silver alloy may prove fatal." I'm not sure if that's in reference to you or the buggane.

Sam: Those two girls probably stumbled onto its nest, and that's why it went after them!

Eloise: One more thing. This website says that it is "intelligent and may talk to people on occasion."

Dean: Right. Come on, Sammy, let's gear up and find those Mole Men!

_Sam __follows __Dean __out __of __the __room__, __Eloise __watching __them __carefully__._

Eloise: Look for bones.

_[__Fade__]_

Dean: So, they were jogging down this paved path here, and Rosie said they came to a fork.

Sam: Where's the fork, though?

Eloise: You'll never find it if you keep blundering around here all night.

_Dean __and __Sam __whirl __around __to __face __Eloise__, __standing __serenely __in __the __dappled __moonlight__._

Dean: What the hell are you doing here?

Eloise: I knew you'd need my help. You just ran out of my room with no rhyme or reason to kill this thing, didn't you? And you can't even see what's right in front of you. That's kind of pathetic, Deannie.

Sam: What do you mean? We've been looking for that fork for over an hour now!

Eloise: Right here. Look.

_Eloise __takes __a __few __steps __to __the __right__, __off __of __the __pavement__, __and __halts__._

Eloise: See? This is the path they took, I'm sure of it. Come on.

Dean: You're not coming, kid. You're in enough danger out here as it is.

Eloise: Oh, then I'll just mosey on back to the inn, shall I? I'll be sure to scream extra-loud so you can hear me when the buggane kills me and rips my face off!

_Sam __and __Dean __both __sigh __in __defeat__._

Eloise: Yeah, that's right. And I bet you didn't think to bring an offering of bread, didya?

Sam: What?

Eloise: I thought not. Here, catch. Those'll protect you from being abducted for now.

_Eloise __throws __two __sizeable __leather __pouches __at __the __two __Winchesters__. __Dean __catches __his__, __but __Sam __fumbles__, __almost __dropping __it__._

Sam: These are heavy.

Eloise: What do you expect? It's barley-cake, of course it's heavy! You two are the strangest hunters I've met.

Dean: So you've met other hunters.

Eloise: None that would tell me they were hunters, but yeah. Who are you, anyway?

Sam: Sam and Dean Winchester, at your service.

Eloise: Balin and Dwalin, huh?

Dean: What?

Eloise: Never mind. It ain't my fault if you haven't read "The Hobbit." But anyway, I'm Eloise Murphy. Of Irish stock, yes. And I need to learn how to hunt.

Sam: Look, Eloise, we don't have time to have this argument with you. The answer to your question is no.

Eloise: Whatever. Lia said you would come around.

Sam: Who?

Eloise: Lia. L-I-A. She sends me dreams, or tries to anyway. Honestly, she's been getting a bit cryptic lately. All she ever sends me now are visions of three guns: two Winchester rifles and a Colt Paterson. Now can you tell me why that could be? I think I've figured it out now. You two are the Winchesters, and you must have some connection to the Colt, but I don't know if it's supposed to be a person or just a gun.

Dean: I'm just gonna ignore that for the time being.

Eloise: Lia hasn't been wrong yet. But anyway, I'm not going back. This is mostly because I don't want a face-lift, courtesy of the buggane.

Dean: _(__Sighing__)_ Do you know how to handle a shotgun?

Eloise: Kind of. Antonette's husband took me shooting a couple of times before he bit it.

Sam: Here. This one has a bit of a kickback, so be careful with it. Silver bullets, and all.

Eloise: So, what's the game plan?

Dean: Game plan? We find this thing and figure out how to kill it, that's the game plan.

Eloise: So you're just diving right in?

Dean: Yep.

Eloise: Huh. Well, time's a-wasting!

_Eloise __waits __for __the __Winchesters __to __take __the __lead__, __and __she __follows __behind __them__, __a __spring __in __her __step__._

Sam: Dean, how are we going to kill this thing?

Dean: Good question. Eloise, have anything you want to share with the class?

Eloise: It said that the sun destroys their power. And silver could prove fatal.

Dean: Well, that'll be fun.

_Eloise __stops __and __turns __rather __suddenly __to __examine __a __body __of __dead __leaves __and __tree__roots__._

Eloise: Hey, guys. Look at this.

_Sam __and __Dean __turn __to __see __what __Eloise __is __talking __about__, __and __Eloise __carefully __moves __a __large __tree __branch __that __reveals __a __big __hole __at __the __base __of __a __tree__._

Sam: Monster lair?

Dean: Almost definitely.

_The __three __enter __cautiously __and __peer __around __in __the __dim __light__. __They __can __see __the __shadows __of __many __human __bones__, __and __there __is __a __rank __stench __in __the __air__. __Eloise __bends __over __to __inspect __something __more __closely__. __She __comes __up __with __a __pink__-__and__-__red __running __shoe__._

Eloise: Well, I'd say that this is where Olivia ended up. I don't see the buggane around, though.

_Suddenly__, __a __scratching __noise __can __be __heard __and __the __buggane __appears __after __burrowing __into __its __den__._

_The __buggane __blinks __once __in __apparent __surprise__, __then __roars __and __goes __after __them__, __trying __to __claw __at __them __with __its __huge __forepaws__._

Dean: Yeah, uh, now might be a good time to RUN!

_Dean __fires __a __shot __at __the __buggane __to __slow __it __down__, __but __before __Eloise __has __time __to __move__, __it __takes __a __swing __at __her__, __giving __the __right __side __of __her __face __new __scars __to __match __the __ones __from __earlier__._

_Eloise __scrambles __up __the __steep __slope __of __the __entrance __to __the __buggane__'__s __lair__, __but __she __trips __just __a __few __feet __from __the __entrance__. __The __shotgun __that __Sam __had __given __to __her __skids __across __the __forest __floor __and __out __of __reach__._

_The __buggane __bears __down __upon __her__, __seemingly __only __intent __upon __Eloise__. __With __manic __haste__, __Eloise __searches __her __pockets __for __something __to __ward __the __buggane __off__. __Finally__, as a last, desperate attempt to buy some time, __she __reaches __her __own __pouch __of __iron __filings __and __flings __a __handful __up __at __it __just __as __Sam __fires __another __silver __round__, __missing __the __beast__'__s __heart __but __hitting __it __none __the __less__. __The __buggane __roars __again__, __flailing __madly__, __while __Eloise __stays __low __and __crawls __to __retrieve __the __shotgun__. __Once __it __is __safely __clasped __in __her __hands__, __she __stands __and __aims __it __at __the __buggane__, __with __Sam __and __Dean __standing __nearby__, __ready __to __shoot __the __beast __should __it __begin __attacking__._

_With __a __hiss__, __a __whiny __insistent __voice__, __almost __human__, __comes __from __the __buggane__'__s __mouth__._

Buggane: Why do you hurt me? I haven't done anything wrong!

Sam: You killed Olivia Henderson. Probably many others, too. In my book, that qualifies as very wrong.

Buggane: But I was hungry! It's unfair to thrust a steak in front of a starving man- Why am I any different?

Eloise: Because you're one of theirs.

_The __buggane __looks __at __Eloise__, __malice __in __its __myopic __eyes__._

Buggane: You belong to them, too, Murphy-Child. Ever since before you were born. But when they came to collect their due, did your father allow them to peacefully take you away? No. He fought, and by fighting, cursed himself and you!

_Eloise __cocks __her __gun__._

Eloise: Shut up.

Buggane: What has happened here you brought upon yourself, Murphy-Child. All that happens here is your fault! The blood of the people who have died is on your hands!

_Eloise __remains __expressionless __as __she __pulls __the __trigger__, __sending __another __silver __round __at __the __beast__, __straight __into __its __heart__. __The __buggane __shrieks __in __agony__, __shrieking __even __louder __when __it __sees __the __sun __climb __over __the __horizon__. __As __the __sun __comes __up__, __the __buggane __begins __to __combust__, __sparks __flying __up __into __the __air __and __dying __as __they __drift __nearer __to __the __forest __floor__._

Dean: What? That's it?

Eloise: It's dead.

Dean: Now how are you so sure?

Eloise: I know when things are dead. We hit it with both sunlight and silver. It's dead.

Dean: Ho-kay...

Sam: We should probably get out of here in case it starts a forest fire.

Eloise: Good idea.

Dean: I must say, I like the cleanup.

Eloise: What cleanup? It just exploded.

Dean: Exactly. Makes the job that much easier.

Eloise: Yeah. I imagine it would.

_The __three __walk __briskly __back __to __the __inn __in __the __chill __morning __air__._

_[__Fade__]_

Eloise: So, Sam and Deannie Winchester. Have you reconsidered yet if you were going to teach me how to hunt these little sons of bitches?

Dean: We'll get back to you on that.

_The __Winchesters __retreat __to __the __opposite __corner __of __the __lobby__._

Sam: Dean, these things killed her family. She really does want to learn.

Dean: I know. And without her distracting the buggane, it probably would have killed us without pause.

Sam: Or even found it in the first place.

Dean: Yeah, but... How old is she? Eighteen?

Sam: We were younger when Dad taught us. I say if she's overage, Eloise can do any damn thing she wants to. I mean, everyone gets into hunting somehow.

Dean: She can handle a shotgun, I guess. And Dad's journal didn't say anything about the damn buggane. I wonder how good she is at lying.

Sam: Let's hope, for now, not very. She seems pretty good at fishing out lies, though.

Dean: So we let her tag along if she's legal? Teach her how to lie?  
>Sam: Yeah. Sounds like a plan.<p>

_The __Winchesters __return __to __where __Eloise __is __standing__, __waiting __for __them__._

Eloise: So? What's the verdict?

Sam: Eloise, we need to know how old you are before we decide. And we need you to answer truthfully.

Eloise: I turned eighteen two months ago. But the real question is, how're we going to explain this to Antonette's daughter?

Dean: Who?  
>Eloise: Antonette's daughter Elizabeth inherited this inn, which means she's coming to run the place. When she called, she also informed me that she had inherited guardianship over me. What are we going to tell her?<br>Sam: You could tell her you've gone to college.

Eloise: Where? She'll want to know what college would accept crazy old me?  
>Dean: What state has she never been to?<p>

Eloise: A ton. She lives in Massachusetts, so I can't lie about any of the colleges there.

Sam: Has she ever been to Ohio?

Eloise: Nope, don't think so.

Sam: Tell her you've gone to Zanesville College, and give her your cellphone number.

Eloise: So what then? When she calls me, answer and tell her how great college is going?

Dean: Yeah, that's pretty much the plan.

Eloise: So, there's that. I'm assuming that you've decided to teach me?  
>Dean: Yeah. You can tag along if you really want to, pledge.<p>

Eloise: Yup. I'm all packed already, after all, Lia did say that you'd come around eventually.

_Eloise __reaches __up __and __hugs __both __Winchesters __around __the __neck__. __Behind __her __back__, __Sam __and __Dean __glance __at __each __other __before __awkwardly __patting __Eloise __on __the __back__._

Eloise: Thanks, guys. You don't know how much this means to me. What made you decide to bring me along, anyway?

Dean: Well, we poked around your room a bit while you were gone, and we didn't find any black magic kinda stuff.

Sam: Also we researched your family a little bit. Your father, Jack Murphy, had six children. On May fourteenth, 1991, all but one, his youngest daughter, Eloise, was killed in a horrible earthquake that made the house collapse. That house is nowhere near a fault line, Eloise. Something killed your family, and we're going to find out what and why.

Eloise: What happened to Jack Murphy?

Sam: He moved to New Carille, made some friends, and was found dead on his lawn one morning. The file says that he died of starvation. That was in 1995.

_Eloise __releases __Dean __and __Sam__, __smiles __a __bit __wistfully__, __and __she __dashes __upstairs __to __retrieve __her __stuff__._

_Outside __now__, __the __Winchesters __throw __their __respective __duffel __bags __into __the __trunk __of __the __Impala__. __Eloise __pauses__, __then __follows __suit __with __her own __blue __canvas __duffel__. __She __carefully __readjusts __her __black __Ramones __messenger __bag __so __that __the __strap __rests __more __comfortably __on __her __shoulder__, __simply __taking __in __the __situation__. __Dean __somewhat __sarcastically __opens __one __of __the __back __doors __of __the __Impala __for __Eloise__, __and __she __gets __in__, __carefully __setting __the __Ramones __bag__ that __held __her __laptop__, __wallet__, __and __meager __cassette __tape __collection__, __down __on __the __seat __beside __her__, __so __as __not __to __damage __the __upholstery__. __She __notices __Dean__'__s __collection __of __cassette __tapes __and __eyes __them__, __reading __the __names __of __the __artists __with __approval __as __the __Winchesters __get __into __the __front __of __the __Impala__._

Eloise: Deannie, you have impeccable taste in music.

Dean: I know. Glad you've noticed.

Eloise: Favourite artist?

Dean: Led Zeppelin, without a doubt. Zeppelin rules!

Eloise: Indeed. I really like Billy Joel, too, though. I have the album "The Stranger" on tape right here.

_Dean __revs __up __the __engine __of __the __Impala__._

Dean: That's a good album. Here, give it to Sammy and he'll put it in.

Sam: Thanks for volunteering me, Dean.

Dean: No prob, bro.

_Sam __takes __the __Billy __Joel __tape __from __Eloise__, __slides __it __into __the __tape __player __and __presses__ "__play__." __Dean __begins __driving __back __down __the __cobbled __driveway __of __the __inn__, __Billy __Joel__'__s__ "__Anthony__'__s __Song__ (__Moving __Out__)" __blaring __from __the __speakers__._

_In __the __back __seat__, __Eloise __smiles __serenely__, __her __navy __blue __hair __shining __in __the __morning __light__, __feeling __strangely __safe __as __they __embarked __onto __a __very __dangerous __journey__._

_[Fade__]_

_{The End}?_


End file.
